Remembering You
by secondstar18
Summary: A songfic based on Steven Curtis Chapman's song Remembering You. Read & review!


**Title: Remembering You**

**Author: Naarelda **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Narnia or Steven Curtis Chapman's song, _Remembering You_, wonderful though they both may be.**

**A/N: I took some creative license on the dialogue, seeing as how I couldn't remember all of it word-for-word as it was in the movie. I may have also gotten small British detail wrong, as I am not British in the least. Please forgive any small indiscretions, and enjoy the show.**

_I found You in the most unlikely way  
But really it was You who found me_

The door of the wardrobe creaked open, and Lucy shot a fugitive glance backwards, biting her lower lip as she heard Peter's voice, muffled as it was by the room. "…twenty-six, twenty-seven, twenty-eight…"

She looked up at the wardrobe and smiled. It was the perfect hiding place. Quickly, she hopped in and pulled the door closed, but not _all_ the way closed, for everybody knew that it was foolish to shut one's self in a wardrobe.

Back, back, back she stepped, pushing the heavy fur coats in front of her face. Lucy wanted to go in as far in as possible so it would be hard for Peter to find her. Susan always won this game, but Lucy was sure that today Peter would never find her. She took another step back, slid her hand behind her to push the next coat up, and gasped in sudden pain.

Something sharp and cold had stabbed her hand.

She turned slowly, almost frightened at the thought of what she might find there. Her young eyes widened in shock. It was a pine branch. In the wardrobe. She took another step forward, and left the wardrobe entirely, stepping into a snowy wood. _I suppose I can always get back,_ she thought as she glanced back at the wardrobe, then continued her way through the snow, seeing a lamppost in the distance…

_And I found myself in the gifts that You gave  
You gave me so much and I_

The sword was heavy in Peter's hand. He nearly dropped it as Father Christmas handed it to him, but caught the golden handle before it hit the ground. It was beautiful, and Peter could only stare at it for a moment before he remembered his manners.

"Thank you!" he breathed to Father Christmas, his eyes shining. With a single, firm pull, the sword fell away from the sheath and gleamed in the afternoon light. He held it high, letting the sunbeams play off its surface and watching with amazement the glittering patterns that dotted the melting snow as it reflected the light. It was a part of him. It _was_ him. Quite suddenly, Peter felt more whole than he had in a long, long while. Perhaps more whole than he had ever felt.

_I wish You could stay  
but I'll, I'll wait for the day_

"He's not a _tame_ lion, you know."

Lucy turned a tearful face toward Mr. Tumnus. "I know," she whispered softly. Behind her, the sounds of dancing and joy continued at the coronation celebration, but Lucy paid it no heed. She turned her eyes back towards the beach, where the great Lion was walking…and gasped when she saw that he was gone.

Upset and a bit frightened, she turned back to Tumnus again; her gentle eyes open wide. He just chuckled and patted her hand awkwardly. "He'll be back. Someday, when you're least expecting it." Lucy bit her lower lip and nodded. She could accept that.

She turned back towards the setting sun and the empty beach, determination gracing her young features. She would wait for him patiently, no matter how long it was before he came back. Oh, but if only he didn't have to go…

_From the first moment when I heard Your name  
Something in my heart came alive_

It began with a feeling. Deep inside her, it burned in the pit of her stomach with an excited shiver. It was the feeling one got just before leaving on an exciting trip, a feeling of anticipation of something unknown and, yet, so very thrilling.

It burned in her stomach for a moment, and then it seemed to radiate from her body, pulsing out through her fingers and toes and out the ends of her hair. There was no way for her to express this feeling in any humanly way; it was just there. She felt as if she were glowing brighter than any star in the northern sky.

And as Susan sat at the Beaver's house, fingers clutching the table in excitement, trembling, she knew that the name she had heard had just changed her life. She had never felt more…alive. "Aslan," she murmured to herself, not allowing the others to hear. "Aslan…"

_You showed me love and no words could explain  
A love with the power to  
Open the door  
To a world I was made for_

Edmund stood, head bowed, before the Great Lion.

"Edmund!" Lucy cried from across the plain. Edmund's head shot up in time to see Peter reach out and keep her from running to him. Why did she even want to see him, after all that he had done to them?

Aslan nodded once and Edmund stepped off the large rock he had been standing on. He walked slowly towards his siblings, then nearly lost his breath as Lucy slammed into him, wrapping her arms around his waist. A grin spread across his face slowly as he returned the embrace.

And when he turned to head back towards the tent, he glanced back at the Lion and noticed his head bowed almost sorrowfully. _How can he still love me?_ Edmund wondered, amazed. _I've never seen such love. I destroyed everything, and He loves me…_

_The dark night, the hard fight  
The long climb up the hill knowing the cost   
The brave death, the last breath  
The silence whispering all hope was lost  
The thunder, the wonder  
A power that brings the dead back to life_

_I wish You could stay  
But I'll wait for the day  
And though You've gone away  
You come back and_

As the White Witch and her cronies fled the Stone Table, Lucy buried her head in Susan's cape, sobbing. They had killed Him, killed Him mercilessly, and for Edmund. They had _killed_ Him.

Susan stroked the back of her head gently, but Lucy could only weep. She had only known him for a day, but this was like a destruction of her world, worse than the German bombers. They had killed Him.

"Shh, shh, it's going to be alright," Susan whispered to her younger sister, all the while knowing the truth that it was, in fact, not all right at all. Her own tears flowed down her cheeks and wetted the top of her sister's head, leaving a darker blotch atop it. How could they _do_ such a thing? How could they ruin everything like this, everything? Susan wrapped her arms around Lucy and wept for the destruction of the best good she had ever known.

"Come on, we should go to Him," Lucy whispered, taking Susan's trembling hand in her own. "We should say good-bye."

Susan hesitated. She did not want her sister's last memories of the Lion to be of Him lying in the cold, bleeding and shorn. And, to be quite frank, she was not sure if she wanted her own last memories of Him to be as such. "Perhaps we'd better not," she began to say, glancing at the Table cautiously.

Lucy did not reply, but grabbed Susan's hand tighter and pulled gently, silently urging her to come. Susan paused again, then quietly requited her fears to the night and headed toward the Lion, her sister's small hand clasped fiercely in her own.

They went up the cold, stone steps of the Table carefully, as the place suddenly seemed sacred to them. A breeze twisted through the air, lifting the girls' capes up off the ground as they ascended towards the terrible sight.

Lucy let go of Susan's hand quickly and raced up the steps toward the Lion, burying her face in the remnants of his mane and sobbing with pure grief. Susan hurried up the other set of stairs and fell on the stones by her sister, tears falling softly from her eyes.

"Oh, Aslan!" Lucy gasped, entwining her fingers in his hair and gently stroking one of his cat-like ears. "How could they _do_ this to you? How could they?"

Susan reached out to touch the Lion, absolute grief clouding her features. "I'm so sorry," she whispered to no one in particular. "So sorry."

Sudden squeaking came from the right of Lucy's elbow, and she jumped up quickly, startled and upset. "Mice!" she cried, running to Susan and clutching her around the waist. "Oh, how could they?"

"No, look," Susan whispered, pointing at the numbers of furry animals that had collected on top of the Lion. "They're chewing off the ropes. They're trying to free Him. They don't know He's dead."

Gently, Lucy let go of her sister and walked over to the body of the Great King, watching with wonder as the tiny creatures atop Him scurried away after having finished their job. "You love Him to, don't you?" she whispered to one particularly close fellow, then reached out to pet him with her index finger before he left with the others.

Susan knelt beside Lucy and together they cried over the Lion, slain for their brother, until they had no more tears left and fell asleep.

Lucy dreamed of Finchley again. She dreamed of the German bomb attacks, and of the particular one that had sent them to live with the Professor. She was watching in horror as Edmund raced inside to retrieve their father's picture when she saw Him. He was running beside Edmund, protecting him. When the window blew in, He pushed Peter. When the boys were racing back to the shelter, he was behind them, urging them on. He had been protecting them.

As she slept, Lucy smiled.

The morning sun rose silently, and Susan's eyes fluttered open slowly, taking in her surroundings. She raised her head, remembering the events of the past night, and reached over to wake her sister.

"Lucy, Lucy, get up. We need to go."

Lucy awoke quickly and sat up, a bit confused for a moment as to where she was. Then unshed tears clouded her countenance as she gently stroked the Lion's head and remembered. "Oh."

She patted Aslan's head one last time, then the girls turned and slowly walked down the stone steps. Susan reached out a hand and rubbed Lucy's back gently in condolence, for she knew how painful it was to leave their dearest Friend.

Suddenly, there was a terrific crack, and the girls were thrown violently to the ground by a great shudder of the earth, as if it were rejecting something that did not belong. Lucy scrambled to her feet and grabbed Susan's hand, forcing the more wary girl to look at the sight behind them.

The Stone Table was cracked in two, and Aslan was gone.

"Oh! How could they do this, after everything else..." She began. Then her voice died away as a four-legged figure mounted the steps on the opposite side of the Stone Table, just as the sun came up over the horizon.

"Aslan!"

The girls rushed to him, and there was only one coherent thought going through Lucy's head. _He's come back, He's come back!_

**_And I watch as the cold winter melts into spring_****_  
_****_And I'll be remembering You_****_  
_****_Oh and I'll smell the flowers and hear the birds sing _****_  
_****_and I'll be remembering You, I'll be remembering You _**

Lucy sat on the window seat in her room back in England, face turned to the un-curtained view. Just beyond the glass, the first flowers of spring were blooming into shades of pink and white. Enchanted by their beauty, she pressed one hand up against the glass longingly, remembering a day when similar flowers began to emerge from a hundred-year spell.

Footsteps echoed in the hall, and Lucy's head spun around, a strangely wild smile on her face. "Peter!" she cried. "Peter, is that you?"

The elder boy stuck his head into his sister's room, cheeks flushed from playing cricket with Edmund, grinning happily. "'ello, Lu," he remarked. "Lovely day outside. Why don't you come out and join us?"

"Maybe in a minute," Lucy said slowly before regaining her former excitement. "But Peter, come see this!" She beckoned excitedly to her brother, and his curiosity was aroused.

Peter sat down on the seat with Lucy and looked out the window, slightly confused. "I don't see much, Lu," he began, before Lucy interrupted him. "See? The flowers are blooming, Peter! They're coming out!"

There was a moment of silence as Peter cocked his head to the side and tried to figure out what was so exciting to his younger sister about the flowers blooming. Then a smile slowly made its way across his freckled face, and he laughed.

"Of course! Just like in Narnia, when Aslan stopped the frost!"

Lucy laughed aloud with sheer joy and flung her arms around Peter's neck. "The flowers bloom, Peter! They bloom!"

Peter hugged his little sister fiercely and they turned to gaze upon the flowers again. As the light of the setting sun hit their faces, for a moment, they were king and queen again.

_And I'll watch as the sun fills a sky that was dark  
And I'll be remembering You  
And I'll think of the way that You fill up my heart  
I'll be remembering You_

For Peter, it was the swords he saw on display at the museum.

_I'll be remembering You_

For Susan, it was the thrill she got when she heard his name again.

_I'll be remembering You_

For Edmund, it was the way that his father always loved him, even after he had done something stupid.

_I'll be remembering You_

For Lucy, it was the flowers.

_I'll be remembering You_

**A/N: Sooo...how was it? Bad, okay, good? I'd like to know; constructive criticism is welcomed! Took me _forever_ to get this done; I kept forgetting I had it. I don't think it's that bad, but some people might get mad at me 'cause it took me away from other things, like _Beyond Your Wildest Dreams_ and my POTC fic which I've forgotten the title of. Oh well. Just review!  
**


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